Blink
by Xain D
Summary: What if Fletcher Renn wasn't the last Teleporter? Meet James, a fifteen year old boy in a world he knows nothing about. Where will this new life take him? Watch as he experiences heartbreak and adventure, and as he comes to be close with a teenage girl and her skeleton partner. Starts just before "the Faceless Ones" and continues on from there. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello there! If you've arrived here on purpose, I'd just like to thank you for choosing to read this story. I'm sure you'll have an excellent time of it. If you've arrived on accident... please stay? I'm sure you'll have fun too. Anyway, this is a story centered on a boy named James. As you might've guessed from the description, he's a Teleporter. What's gonna happen, you ask? How about you read and find out. Oh, by the way, this chapter isn't amazing. Not up to my usual standard anyway. But if you'll bare with me, I'm sure we can push through it together, and continue further, okay? Sounds good. Now, onto the show!**

Chapter One

An Invitation

A tall boy with dark brown hair stood by the luggage carousel in Dublin Airport, watching as other people's luggage went round and round, occasionally getting claimed by other people stepping off airplanes. It felt strange for the boy, being in Ireland. He'd never stepped foot out of America before, and now he was across the ocean. All because a mysterious man had appeared out of thin air right before his eyes.

About two weeks ago, the boy's father had passed away. This was a very sad matter, for obvious reasons. Equally as sad was how the boy dealt with it. He brooded, alone in his home, for several days. He wasn't so solitary by choice, however; there was just no one else to grieve with him.

He had been homeschooled his entire life. Actually, no, that's not true. He had gone to a public grade school until he was about seven. Then something happened which caused his parents to promptly pull him out, and providing an education for their boy themselves. What could cause such a drastic decision, you ask?

Magic.

The boy had showed the warning signs of being a naturally born mage before the "incident," but his parents had hoped that they had been mistaken. Unfortunately for them, there was no mistaking what had happened on the class field trip.

It had been a sunny Wednesday… or maybe it was Thursday… Well, it doesn't really matter. It had been a weekday. A sunny one. The boy's elementary school had taken their usual field trip, to the local zoo. Well, our young boy was always a fan of the lions. He'd always wanted to pet a lion, and on this particular day, he got his chance. Not by some sort of raffle where the winner got to pet a lion. Oh no, nothing like that. One moment he was standing by the iron bars of the enclosure, and the next he was practically nestled in a den of lion cubs. Just like that. Poof.

It was then that the boy's parents realized he had natural born talent for magic, specifically Teleportation. And the rest, as they say, is history. The aforementioned homeschooling took place, then the death of both his parents, and now we're at the present.

Well, not the present, actually. The present is this boy in Dublin. This is two weeks prior to the present, when he's still in America. As I stated earlier, he spent all of his time sulking and mourning. Rightly so, I might add; death is mighty depressing, and can cause even the best of us to feel down in the dumps.

His moping ended momentarily, however, with a knock at his door. As the boy got up, wiped his eyes, and shuffled to the front door, he wondered who it could be. Obviously not a school friend, as he had none. His father had been a psychologist, and his mother a house wife, so it couldn't be a work acquaintance.

The boy pulled open the door, his curiosity peaked at this point, to reveal a man with light brown hair. It was short, a bit lighter than the thin beard that covered the lower half of the man's face. He had pale skin, but looked healthy. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled.

"James Duran?" he asked. The newly orphaned boy, who was in fact James Duran, nodded.

"Can I help you?" he asked. He hoped his eyes wouldn't be too red from the crying he had been doing.

"My name is Cameron Light," the man said, stepping into James' house, despite not being invited. "I think we may have something in common." He held out a hand to a rather confused James.

"What would that be?" asked the teenager, reaching out a hand to shake the stranger's. The moment the two of them made contact, James felt an all too familiar feeling. It was as if he was being whisked away from his home. He felt lighter than air, and then, in a single moment, it all stopped. And he was somewhere entirely different.

They had teleported. Only James hadn't done it. It had been Cameron Light.

They no longer stood in James' home, but in a large and open field. James could see no lights, and hear no cars, so he assumed they must be rather far from civilization. He immediately put his guard up.

"You're a Teleporter?" asked James, though he already knew the answer. Cameron smiled.

"Yes indeed," he said. James noticed for the first time that the man had an Irish accent. "And, if my sources are correct, you are as well." James, who was rather bright, despite being only fifteen, narrowed his eyes slightly.

"And what sources would those be?" he asked, hoping that one of his puberty-related voice cracks wouldn't be happening any time soon. Cameron Light smiled, and it seemed to be genuine.

"Well, a man must keep some of his secrets, mustn't he?" he asked, winking. "Let's just say that I've known about you—and what you can do—for some time now. And I have a proposition for you."

James' eyes widened slightly. "A proposition?" he asked.

"Yes indeed," said Light. "How old are you, James?"

"Seventeen," James lied. He was tall for his age, so he might just pull it off.

"You're lying," noted Light. Oh. Well, there went that plan.

"Fifteen, then," said James. "That's the truth."

"Oh, I know," Light told him. "I was just being polite. To be frank, though, I already know an awful lot about you."

"Is that right?" asked James, trying to sound more mature than he in truth was.

"I know your name, don't I?" asked Light. "I knew where you lived. I knew you were a Teleporter, and how old you are. I know your father recently passed away." James averted his gaze. Cameron Light placed a hand on James' shoulder, but the teen didn't look up again.

It was after a long, shuddering breath, that James said, "That proposition you mentioned?"

"Listen, James," Light said softly. Despite the paleness of his skin, his hand was warm. "We're both Teleporters. We're mages, James. I've trained for many years to gain my abilities. But some need not do that. Some, like you, are naturally born with magical talents." Now James looked up.

"Magic?" he asked. "This… this thing I can do… magic?" Light smiled again.

"Yes indeed," he said. "Just one of many types. And teleportation is one of the rarest; there's less than a dozen of us in the world right now. And of all of us, nearly all are trained. You, my boy, are not.

"I propose," he continued. "You come with me, where I can train you to use your abilities correctly. Get you involved in the Irish Sanctuary."

"Sanctuary?" asked James, confused.

"Oh, of course, I forget myself," said Light, shaking his head as if ridding it of cobwebs. "The Sanctuary—most countries have got one—is sort of like a hub for the magical folk. The Irish Sanctuary, however, is the most powerful and influential. Ireland is considered the birthplace of magic, after all."

"I'm part Irish," James noted. "On my mom's side. Her grandfather lived in Ireland. Hardly ever visited." Light nodded, somewhat knowingly.

"No, I wouldn't think he would," Light said. "He was often doing business for us. I suppose you didn't know that your very grandfather was involved with the Irish Sanctuary, did you?" James' eyes widened.

"My grandfather could teleport too?" he asked.

"Oh no, boy," said Light. "Your grandfather was an Elemental mage. He controlled the elements; fire, water, air, and earth."

"Then… why aren't I?" asked James, getting more and more confused as they went on. "Why do I teleport if he controlled fire and stuff?"

"Well, like I said, most people need to train hard to gain their abilities," Light reminded James. "Your grandfather chose the path of the elements. You, however, had no choice in the matter, and were born a natural Teleporter. Congratulations."

James was silent for a moment. This was all a lot to take in, after all. He had accepted long ago that there was something strange about him (the teleporting had been a clue) but now he was learning all about magic and Sanctuaries and his grandfather's past. It left him reeling slightly. Luckily, Light seemed to be a man of action, and continued the conversation along.

"Teleport us back to your home," said Light, placing both his hands on James' shoulders. "Go ahead, get us back to your house. We'll continue speaking there." James shrugged, and closed his eyes. He needed concentration to teleport. He thought hard about his home. His living room, with the sofa and the armchair, the TV and the coffee table. Then, with a deep breath, they teleported.

And wound up about two miles away from where they had just been.

"Not quite," said Light. "As you've just proven to the both of us, you are far from adept at teleportation." Then, in the blink of an eye, Light teleported them both back to James' home. "If you want to be able to do things like that, and more, you'll accept my offer."

And so, after much planning, James had decided he would indeed join Cameron Light in Ireland. Light had provided him with a plane ticket, for a plane that would leave in two weeks' time. Then, without another word, Light had teleported away, most likely back to Ireland.

The next two weeks had passed in a blur. At first, James had tried to think of all the things he would need to pack. Then he wondered how he would explain all this to his friends and family, before the depressing reminder that he had neither.

"Good," he had said to himself, when these thoughts had cropped up. "Less explaining and less alibis are better, anyway."

The only really troubling thing was what would happen to his home. He had lived there all his life, played there, learned there, laughed and cried there. Could he just leave it all behind, like the shell that it was slowly becoming?

This question was answered for him, when some men from the bank knocked on his door one morning. To put it simply, they said a lot of big words, pulled out a lot of official looking documents, and informed James he could no longer live there. He had told them that was fine, excused himself to get a pen, and then teleported to the nearest motel.

And now, finally, we have reached the present. The real present this time. I swear.

James found the small suitcase that contained his clothing, pulled it from the carousel, and began searching. Light had contacted him by phone (James didn't bother to ask how he'd gotten the number) and told him that he himself would be at the airport to pick James up. James assumed that Light would teleport the two of them somewhere. What he had not assumed, however, was that Light would be standing among the taxi drivers, holding up a piece of paper with the name Duran written on it.

James walked over, and Cameron Light smiled warmly. "Welcome to Dublin." He said. And that was that.

Instead of teleporting, Light had brought a car. A Ford. It was nice, and it was blue. James liked blue.

The two Teleporters got in, and as the car whirred to life, Light nodded for James to buckle up. They left the airport in silence, James' face glued to the window. He never would've guessed how different Ireland looked from America. And that it felt so different. He couldn't put a finger on it, but something was… different. Maybe it was magic, who knows?

"So, now that I'm here," said James, moving his face away from the Ford's window, which was currently being pelted with a light rain. "You mind telling me where we're going?"

"To my house," said Light.

"Ah." And that was the end of that. But on the ride over, James' mind began running wild. He was about to see a mage's house. His secret lair, as it was. Would there be spell books? Magical creatures? A flying broom?

No. There would not be. What there was, was a rather nice living room.

"This is… where you live?" James asked, as they entered the home. Light looked to him, and nodded.

"It's homey, wouldn't you say?" he asked.

"Uh… yeah, that's it. Homey." Light smiled, sensing that James was slightly disappointed.

"Well, there is this…" he said. He took James' hand, and teleported. Now they were standing in a rather small room, lined with bookshelves and artifacts. Many of the books had ancient runes etched all over them, and the artifacts all seemed to be from some long-gone age, a few buzzing with some sort of magical energy. Instead of smiling back at Light, James' mouth pretty much hit the floor. He suddenly realized he was gaping, and, feeling rather embarrassed, closed his mouth. "Better?" asked Light, smiling slyly.

"Way," said James, gazing around. "Where are we, exactly?" he asked.

"A room."

'But _where_ is the room?"

"In my house," said Light. "Well… under my house. It's a basement, per se. But there's no door. The only way in is Teleportation. So this is where I keep all my… er… magic-y stuff."

"Uh huh…" James said slowly. "Why don't you keep it all out there, though?" he gestured upwards, signifying the main house that belonged to Light. "Why keep it bottled up down here?"

"My friends," Light said. "Aren't all sorcerers, you know. I interact with loads of mortals on a day to day—"

"Mortals?" asked James.

"Non-magic people," said Light. "I know, the term seems derogatory. But it's been the term we use for centuries, so I don't think our complaints are going to change anything." And then he put a hand on James' shoulder, and the two were instantly back in the foyer of Light's house.

"Okay…" said James. "So, where's my room?"

"Your room?" asked Light, sounding quizzical. Then he seemed to reach a realization, and smiled. "Oh no boy, you're not staying _here_. You'll move around from motel to motel."

"What?" asked James, confused. "That's ridiculous. Why wouldn't I just live with you?"

"Two Teleporters under the same roof is… iffy at best," said Cameron Light.

"Why's that?"

Light hesitated a moment before answering. "A lot of the magical community… doesn't trust Teleporters. I think it's got something to do with us being wherever we want, whenever we want. A bit unnerving for some, I'd expect."

"People don't like us?" asked James, even more confused. "I didn't know _that_! When were you planning on telling me that the magical community already thought badly of me?"

"Sometime between lessons five and six," Light answered honestly. "You've just arrived in our magical little world, I didn't want to taint your expectations before we even got you started. Speaking of which…" he moved into his kitchen, to a counter. James followed, and watched Light flip through a day planner. A magical day planner? No, a regular day planner. "Ah yes!" he said suddenly. He turned back to James. "Our first lesson will begin Friday, here, at nine am. Does that work for you?" James' eyes widened in surprise at the odd question.

"Wha… what do you mean?" he asked. "Of course it works for me. What else would I be doing?"

"Good point," said Light. James was beginning to expect that the serious tone that Light had first greeted him with had been a façade. Perhaps he was always this… erratic… "Here, I'll show you some of my favorite motels to stay at, when the need arises."

And so the two Teleporters spent the afternoon scouting out places for James to stay. Most of them were relatively close by, which meant that James could switch between several of them in just one or two teleports. Cameron Light had insisted he not stay in the same place for more than three nights at a time, as people usually caught on to the fact that you hadn't paid for your room.

The motel that James would spend his first few nights in certainly wasn't luxurious; but then, what motel _was_. It had a bed, a bathroom, and a TV. What more did he need, really? And it was nearby two other motels, so James could switch through them relatively easy.

"Remember," said Light, as he prepared to depart. "Friday at nine, at my home. Meet me there for your first lesson."

"Will do," said James. Light smiled, nodded a goodbye, and disappeared. James flopped backwards onto the bed.

A new chapter in his life was starting. A very odd, exciting, magical chapter.

And he was ready.

**This is just the start. If you liked it, please rate, review or favorite the story, to let me know. Chapter two will be up soon.**


	2. Lessons

**Author's Note: So hopefully you're still here. Are you? I can't tell, computers don't work like that. Anyhow, here's chapter two. Stuff gets fun soon.**

Chapter Two

Lessons

The day that James had arrived in Ireland had been a Tuesday, and his lesson with Light was on a Friday. So he had spent his Wednesday and Thursday exploring Dublin, careful not to be seen by anyone when he teleported to so many different locations.

He had learned a few things already about this new country. First, it rained a lot. Second, the people (though he'd only met a few) seemed to be relatively nice and accepting. And third, it rained a lot. Like, a _lot._

Friday arrived, and with it, a sunrise that was a welcome change to the past two grey and dull mornings. James sat up in his motel bed, stretched his arms with a yawn, and then teleported into the bathroom to take a shower. Yes, the bathroom was only about six feet from the bed, but James wanted to use his power as much as he could before his lesson. Back home, his parents had discouraged it, saying it would make him an outcast, and that it just wasn't normal for boys to go appearing randomly in various places. But here he was encouraged to do it. And do it he would.

After he dried off and getting dressed, he checked his watch. It was 7:15, giving him plenty of time before he had to be at Light's place. One of the biggest advantages to being a Teleporter was that you never had to worry about travel time.

James teleported outside of the motel, down the street, behind a small diner that he had stumbled upon on Wednesday. This place served some excellent scrambled eggs, so he walked in, and sat at the counter.

A plump, middle aged woman named Mirabelle walked over to where he sat. He had been in twice in a row, so the two were somewhat acquainted.

"Well hello there, James," she said. "Back again? Let me guess… scrambled eggs again?" James smiled.

"I've known you two days, and you already know me so well," he said. "Scrambled eggs would be great, thanks. Oh, and some orange juice." Mirabelle smiled, and went back into the kitchen to get James' order started.

While he was waiting, James' mind began to wander about what the lesson would be like. How do you _teach_ teleportation? Would Light be strict with him, or lenient? Where would he practice? They couldn't really get a whole bunch of use out of Light's small house, could they?

Mirabelle returned with the eggs and juice, and James thanked her before beginning to dig in to the fluffy yellow deliciousness. As he ate, he glanced at his watch. 7:30. Still loads of time.

Mirabelle walked back over. "Say, James," she began, as she wiped a rag in a small glass. "Where're your parents? You should tell them to come by some time." James had to fight to keep from spitting out his juice in surprise. He should've figured that someone would ask about his parents sooner or later, but hadn't expected it to happen so soon, and therefor had no prepared answer.

"They're… around…" he tried, and then quickly stuffed his mouth with eggs. He didn't look up from his plate, and eventually Mirabelle left with a shrug to take other customer's orders.

Once James finished his eggs and juice, paid his bill, and wished Mirabelle farewell, he checked his watch again. It was now 8:00. He had an hour before he needed to be at Light's place. But for a Teleporter, an hour is _more than enough_ time.

Walking briskly, James made his way to the back of the diner. Once he was there, he thought of a destination, and teleported away.

He appeared at the top of a water tower, which overlooked much of Dublin. He had seen the tower on Thursday, but never been to it. Now, from high atop it, he took in the city in its whole. It was… wonderful. Not even the city in particular; just being up there, above it all. He would need to make a mental note to return here whenever he was feeling stressed.

James spent a bit longer at the tower, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was back in his motel room. In the past few days, without any training, he had increased his teleportation range exponentially. He could now teleport several miles further than he could have back home, which was saying something. And that was all _without_ training. He couldn't wait to see where Light's guidance would take him.

James lounged around his motel room as long as he could, and when he saw that it was 8:55, he quickly teleported over to Cameron Light's house. It still wasn't raining, but the sky was darkening a bit. Oh well.

He knocked on the door, and waited for an answer. A little while went by, and no one answered, so he knocked again, a bit harder this time. Eventually, someone came to the door. It was Light, looking slightly confused.

"You're here?" he asked. "I wasn't expecting you till nine." James checked his watch.

"It's 8:58," he said, showing Light the watch.

"Well, when you're a Teleporter you're never really early. Or late. You're right on time." James didn't mention that he was pretty sure that was a line from a movie, as at that exact moment, someone else teleported to Cameron Light's house, appearing right next to James. "Ah, hello Emmett," said Light, checking his watch. "Right on time, as always." He said this with an eyebrow raised in James' direction.

"Hello Cameron," said the new man, Emmett. "And you must be James then, yes?" James nodded. "Nice to meet you. I'm Emmett Peregrine." He held out a gloved hand, and James shook it. Emmett Peregrine had slightly darker skin than Light (but then again, most everyone did) and dark brown hair that was in tight curls. "Cameron's told me a lot about you."

"Oh," said James. Luckily, that was all he had time to say, because Light ushered the two other Teleporters inside quickly.

"Tea, Emmett?" asked Cameron Light.

"I'd love some," Peregrine said, and Light walked into the kitchen to fetch some.

"Not to be rude," James asked, sitting down on Light's sofa. "But, um, why exactly are you here, Mr. Peregrine?"

"Please," Peregrine said, holding up one of his hands. "Call me Emmett. And I am here, young James, to train you."

"I thought Cameron—"

"Cameron will be training you in the art and practice of teleportation," Peregrine said quickly. "I will be training you in the art of knowledge of the magical world. Not to mention combat."

"Combat?" James repeated, confused. "Why do I need to learn how to fight?"

"In the magical community," Light said, emerging from the kitchen. "We have a surprising amount of violent, homicidal maniacs."

"…I see…" said James.

"It's always useful to know how to fight," said Light, acting as if James hadn't said anything. "You'll find even the oldest, most frail looking of sorcerers can hold their own in a scrap."

"You see," said Peregrine. "Magic doesn't just involve spells and abilities. It also affects us physically. Our bodies are substantially stronger, even into our twilight years. But even the strongest bodies are nothing without training."

"Ah!" Light said excitedly. "A perfect transition!" And with that, he grabbed Emmett and James on their wrists, and teleported.

They now stood in a large forest, with trees taller than imaginable and thicker than James had ever seen. He recognized this place from photographs. These were Redwoods. They were in California.

"A bit hot, isn't it Cameron?" asked Emmett. Light waved him away.

"Now, James my boy," he said. "Let's begin your training." He looked around a bit, and then pointed upwards. "You see that branch there? The thick one, all by its lonesome?" James followed the path that Light's finger was going, and spotted the branch in question. He nodded. "Teleport to it." James was surprised. The branch was only about thirty feet away. That was no problem, even for a novice Teleporter. With a nod, James teleported up towards the branch… and found himself falling from about twenty feet in the air. Before he could register what had happened, Emmett Peregrine had teleported to him, snatched him out of the air, and teleported them both back to the ground next to Light.

"Wha…" said James, confused. "Why couldn't I…?"

"You would be surprised how many Teleporters have trouble going vertical," Light explained. "Horizontal, no problem. They can travel sideways across the globe. Vertically, however, they can barely reach the top of a building. And so, I feel this is an important skill for you to have."

"Next time, try going at it with a jump," Peregrine suggested. James nodded, and leapt into the air, teleporting at the height of his jump. He reappeared nearly a foot away from the branch. His hand swiped out, and managed to touch bark, before he came plummeting back to earth. Light caught him this time, and James tried to hide his embarrassment.

"Keep going," Peregrine urged him. "Try and try until you're exhausted, and then try again. You'll get it. We're sure of it." Light nodded in agreement. Clenching his teeth, James teleported again.

In about twenty minutes, James had reached the thirty foot branch. Then a forty foot branch. Forty five, fifty, fifty five. Higher and higher he got, each branch seeming easier than the last the more he practiced.

He was now sixty feet in the air, teleporting from branch to branch, feeling like a teleporting Tarzan. He teleported to a branch that was surrounded by foliage, and when he pushed the leaves away, he got a breathtaking view of the rest of the forest from his perch so high above the world. He sat on the branch a moment, taking in all the beauty, and then, with one last glance, teleported back to Light and Peregrine.

"Enjoying yourself?" asked Emmett as James stepped out of the open space next to them. James nodded. Emmett smiled. "Good," he said, and then slugged James in the stomach.

James went flying backwards, his back smacking into the thick tree behind him. Peregrine was stronger than he looked, and James was incredibly surprised by that. But even more so, he was surprised by how he felt. Fine. A little sore, sure, but in terms of someone who'd been punched in the gut, flew backwards ten feet, and crashed into a redwood, he was right as rain.

"Like I told you," Peregrine said, sauntering over. "Magic affects us physically. We're stronger, faster, more resilient than mortals." He offered James a hand, which he took, and got pulled to his feet. "And other sorcerers use this to their advantage in fights."

"But why?" asked James, slightly confused. "Why use our fists when we have magic?"

"Well," said Light, chiming in. "Sometimes fists _are_ magic. Elder Bliss, for example, is an Adept who is the strongest man in the world. It's not all spells and teleporting in the magical world, James. Most sorcerers have weapons to go along with their magic."

"Do you two?" he asked. In response, Light pulled a jagged dagger out of his boot, and Peregrine un-holstered a pistol. "Will _I_ get a weapon?" James asked. Light and Peregrine exchanged a look.

"Perhaps someday," Peregrine said. "But not today. Come, let me show you how to fight."

The two Teleporters walked to a clearing in the woods, with Light hanging back, observing. "Now," continued Peregrine. "A key part of combat is balance. You need to control it, master it, and use it. For instance…" Peregrine shoved James backwards, and then teleported. He reappeared behind James, and crouched down, so James fell backwards over him, and landed on the ground. Peregrine teleported in front of James once more.

"That was dirty," James complained, getting up. Peregrine smiled, and James seized his chance. He rushed forward, shoving at Peregrine. Emmett grabbed James' wrists, and in an instant he had teleported them fifty feet in the air. Peregrine twisted free of James, pushed him away, and teleported back to earth. James, cursing, teleported to the ground as well.

"A nice try," Peregrine said, nodding. "But as you can see, I predicted it. Another big part of fighting is guessing your enemy's next moves. It's saved my life numerous times." James nodded in understanding. "But the most important part for a Teleporter, is to use your gifts in a fight."

Immediately, Peregrine disappeared. He reappeared at James' right, and sent a jab into James' abdomen. In a second, he was on James' left, and sent a kick at his shin. Then he was behind him, and shoved him forward. And finally, he teleported directly above the teen, and dropped on him, knocking James to the ground.

"I'm getting pretty sick of falling on my ass…" James muttered, getting back up once more. Peregrine strolled over, looking a tad smug.

"Now, what've you learned so far?" he asked. James thought, for a moment, and then had an idea.

"Control balance," he began. "Be able to predict your opponents…" and then he shoved Peregrine. He quickly teleported behind the older man, and kicked out his legs. When Peregrine fell to the ground, James wrapped an arm around his mentor's torso, and teleported the two of them into the air. He released Peregrine thirty feet above the ground. But he wasn't done. He teleported back to the ground, beneath Peregrine, and gave the older man an uppercut when he came down.

Emmett Peregrine landed on the ground, and groaned. Just then, James heard clapping, and turned to see Light standing there, smiling. "Good show, James!" he called. "Wouldn't you say, Emmett?"

Peregrine got up, brushing himself off. Despite the thirty foot fall followed by a punch to the jaw, he looked right as rain. "Quite," he agreed, and flashed a smile in James' direction. "I think we'll be done for the day, James my boy. Come here, let's get back to Ireland…" he grabbed James' hand, and the two teleported back to Light's house. In a moment, Cameron appeared beside them.

"Keep practicing what we've shown you today," Light told him. "We'll see you on Monday, nine o'clock sharp." He put emphasis on the word _sharp_, as a hint towards James' early arrival that occurred earlier that day.

"Alright, thanks," James said, a bit awkwardly. He didn't really know how to leave his two new teachers. Did he shake their hands? Say thank you again? Ask a few parting questions?

Luckily, he didn't have to answer, as just then Peregrine showed his watch to Light, saying, "We're needed at the Sanctuary." Light nodded.

"I'm sure you can show yourself out James," Light said, and in an instant, the two mentors were off, leaving James confused and relieved.


End file.
